Bleeding Orchids
by Himulia007
Summary: They were all wrong. All those fan-girls spread across the internet. How could they even think that he was all nice and charming, even caring? After all those years, you can tell one thing: No, the Sexual Offenderman never was anything of this and certainly never will. It was all for his entertainment. Nothing more, nothing less. Just a toy to play with and destroy.


_**So that is my first fanfiction that is uploaded on this site. Whew, I'm quite nervous about this. ^^"**_

 _ **Just a warning for sensitive readers: There are mentions of abuse and manipulation in this, maybe even rape, although I'm not sure about the last one. People who don't like Smexy, his behaviour or in general slenders should turn away now.  
**_

 _ **Don't Like? Don't Read!**_

 _ **I have nothing against critism as long as it is not flaming or even hating.**_

 _ **You can eat the grammar and spelling mistakes. They taste like cookies. Really.**_

 _ **Rated M for my nervousness about the rating and warnings above.**_

* * *

"You know, it looks quite adorable if you ask me. Such a nice shading! Shame on the tattoo artist that you can't see it without a second mirror.~"

Pah, of course he would say that. Always the sexy bastard in his comments, his looks and attitude. That's nothing new, really. Just as she had always known him and how she would know him forever. He was never going to change

 _Charming._

 _Mysterious._

 _Smart._

Seducing you with only a few, but carefully chosen words was more effective than most people would ever think. Nothing special here today, just like things happen every day with him as a companion. Maybe he could have kept the smart commentary to himself with how he goggled over that fucking tattoo on the back of her right shoulder.

"Honey, you're just as sweet as on the first day I met you.", the Russian replied sarcastically while rolling her eyes and to peer over to the slender who sat behind her, like her cross-legged, on the king-sized bed. The only difference about them was that Aglaia wasn't pressing herself into the other's body.

Oh, and she wasn't naked. Just mentioning.

Someone seemed to have had a nice day until now, so Aglaia shouldn't complain about it. This _sexy_ _beast_ could have done _much_ worse already than only hugging her.

At least the Sexual Offenderman didn't yet decide to…

"That's why I'm here, remember? I know you are going to love this tattoo as much as I do, if not even _more_.~"

Oh, wait. He did it right after Aglaia wanted to thank Jesus that he didn't. As if Offender could read her mind without any trouble at all. Kind of scary, wasn't it?

Aglaia cringed at the sound of what could have been mistaken as a _lapping dog_. Yep, of course Offender had to _lick_ that fucking tattoo as if it was sweet, sweet candy. Now Aglaia didn't even _want_ to know what the motif was about. What was that tongue doing again in the last 24 hours? And why did Aglaia have to think about that _right_ _now_? The woman shuddered when her shoulder became incredibly wet after only a few seconds had passed.

"As much as I appreciate talking to you… _Fendy_ ", Aglaia pronounced the spontaneous created nickname as if she had yet to get used to the sound of it, "I don't think it'll numb the pain if you keep doing… _that_."

A pause.

"Wait, are you talking to me? Oh! My apologies, I didn't quiet understand you with those slopping sounds looming around. My tongue is such an amazingly fabulous tool, isn't it?~"

Offender chuckled like only a child would when he heard Aglaia's annoyed groan. Encouraged, he continued with even _more_ effort to abuse the still sore tattoo. She would despise it! At first the anger, then the desperation! Aglaia was going to be so more open to him afterwards!

She _had to_ love it. He just…yes, he just fucking _knew_ it.

"Exactly that, you overgrown teenager boy!"

"And… _here_?~"

"Stop nagging on my neck right now! Or I'll have to-"

"You'll what? Throw pillows at me like you did when I teleported in here?"

"You warped yourself right into my fucking bed! I slept in there without having _any_ clue about what was going to happen! Do you even know how much you weigh with all these tentacles and… _stuff_?!"

The licking halted. Kept going. Got more aggressive. Stopped suddenly.

"Now, that one did hurt, _Ugly_."

On the edge of bearable stress, Aglaia had let herself drop into the harsh embrace.

Great. Not only a wet shoulder but also a pouting slender right. in. her. bed. Just great.

Now, that sounded more ridiculous than it should have had. Really, it would make most people _shitting their pants_ having such a paranormal creature in their own room – no – but also hugging them like they're some kind of personal puppet.

Offenderman continued for what felt like ages to poor Aglaia who just wanted to curl up and sleep through this perverted nightmare of black tongues, unwanted tattoos and baseball-big eye bags.

Finally his victim wheezed and whispered "I'm exhausted as fuck. You can't just come in here and keep me awake for the rest of the night, you know? It's barely after midnight and you know more than anyone else that I need to be concentrated while working with my clients!"

"Ohhh, someone gets kinky thoughts!~", Offender whispered back and snickered when Aglaia sighed, seeming to think about the idea of just strangling him to death and get the problem solved once and for all. Not that it would have worked, but hey, everyone dreamed about impossible things sometimes. Oh wait, it would _sure as hell_ scare away all her suitors if she'd kill the most famous monster in the whole prostitution-scene. Business was business, even to Aglaia, so no strangling today. Maybe someday, but not until she had gotten a way out of this _misery_.

There would be no more records of mysterious memory losses across the world. Such a mass of people who wouldn't get punched into this cruel world of abnormal horror-creatures. So many innocent girls - like Aglaia was once - who wouldn't get raped, imprisoned, sold into slavery, tortured or the hell did Aglaia know what could happen when that _Fendy_ was just _in the mood_ to do so.

Sex wasn't just sweet, sweet love-making. That's just _pathetic_. Unfortunately for the victims around her, Aglaia had other things to worry about, after all she was talking right now to one of the most dangerous beings in the whole world.

And in contrast to those young chicks Aglaia had actual chances to _survive_ this.

* * *

An surrendering sigh. "Please, I _don't want to_ right now."

"That's what your little rational part of your little sassy brain is telling you, _honey_.~"

"Come on, can't you just leave me alone? Only this time? Just delaying it for some hours that I can get some sleep _before_ you fuck me back to complete and utter exhaustion?"

How cute the Russian sounded when she tried begging. Maybe Offender would even _budge_ someday to her will just to see her surprised face when he did so.

Aglaia found herself being pressed up against a wall. She didn't know how Offender was able to move so quickly. Maybe her brain really wasn't that smart like she always had thought. As she always had and always would. Manipulative Bastard!

But hey, why should it _ever_ change? It didn't change in the first month, the first year or the first decade, hell, it didn't even change in the slightest when Offender told Aglaia that the bond they had made with the rose reached a very rare status of power in which she wouldn't age anymore because the flower gave her the life strength Aglaia needed to survive.

Strength made out of her slowly disappearing soul. Everything had his prices after all.

The brief sound of rustling clothes. "Please? Only this time? It's not like you'd never see me again!"

A growl. "You repeat yourself, Aglaia. I said it once and I won't repeat myself just for your sake of naivety. I made myself _very_ clear."

A repressed gasp.

"Don't be difficult now, darling. You know how it works more than most of my other girls will _ever_ do. Just turn around now, I want to see it _immediately_."

"See what?"

A slap followed by a yelp. "The tattoo, you bitch! It just _fits_ in our relationship, doesn't it? It turns you on, doesn't it? Come on, you'd have to be blind to _not_ see how your own rose glimmers on the table over there! Didn't you try to burn it last week _again_? You wanting slut!~"

It still scared the shit out of Aglaia with how he knew _every time again_ when she did something forbidden. Unfortunately, the Sexual Offenderman seemed to be in a kind of sadistic mood today. Aglaia never had luck with things like that.

"Stop licking it with that _freaking_ tongue of yours! I-It's still sore, dammit!"

"The fuck do I care? I own your goddamn body and soul – and this isn't even some kind of dirty talk I'm using right now. Now turn around or I'll make you bend your back in a _very_ uncomfortable way!"

Now _Fendy_ finally showed his sinister side. Charming and sexy? Never. That temping beast! Why did he even have to be always _so fucking_ good in bed? Like this, no one would even _dare_ to stand up against him!

However, why should his behavior ever change? The Sexual Offenderman didn't have to change. Hell, after all this time they spend together, Aglaia didn't even know how old he truly was. All the woman truly knew is that she surely wasn't the first with a stolen soul: And the Russian was never going to be the last tormented human being.

The glowing of the blood red flower in the dim light of the room was even more evident than before. Did this _thing_ really eat away her soul, her every faith and thoughts? _Just like that?_

The ministrations stopped suddenly.

"Aglaia, you're thinking again. It's no fun like that, remember? I hate being ignored. Wanna know what the tattoo is about now or not?"

The answer wasn't more than a moaned out 'No!'.

Offenderman laughed. He fucking _laughed_.

"Do you want to know or not? It looks far better than the original tattoo you loved so much that primitive plain white orchid of yours. God, I _hated_ this piece of shit. Didn't even fit on your skin."

"You erased my beautiful white orchid?! How could you!"

Finally the laughing lowered into snickering.

"Well, not _exactly_. You'll see soon enough yourself. Don't wanna ruin the big-big surprise after all. You don't even deserve a reward with how bitchy you are right now." Offenderman winked away the death glares he got for keeping the secret for himself. Why did Offender have to be so schizophrenic again? Didn't he just wanted to describe the motif so badly?

A sharp protest was made although it was broken by a high-pitched cry. "Hey, you said that you wanted to rest, not me! I'll fuck you either way to exhaustion, so what's suddenly your problem? It doesn't make a difference if I do it now or tomorrow. Quite strange, your sudden change of character. Back in the sixties you began to moan just when I touched you just on your hips! Loosening touch again, do we? We'll see what I can do about those _tense knots_ in your brain.~"

There was no further protest heard that night.

* * *

The next day, Aglaia didn't work like she perhaps should have had. Fuck her clients, she was more than _just a bit_ sore after that long night. She did sleep until noon just because one horny boy couldn't hold himself back for only a few hours. The woman's muscles arched, she couldn't sit right and had hickeys all over her body. A _very_ sadistic mood, as it seemed afterwards.

That wasn't the mood-killer, though. The tattoo Aglaia loved so much was really gone. Only the blurred black lines were left of what the Russian once called her favorite flower of all time.

Why did Offender even hate orchids? The Russian did bet that he didn't and just wanted to provoke her in a very nasty and painful way.

Aglaia stood for an eternity in front of the body-sized mirror, staring at her new tattoo some kind of asshole tattooed on her skin without even asking _her_ instead of Offender.

It made Aglaia's blood boil with more than just anger. Ice-cold fury - or was it numbness? She couldn't tell anymore. Not that it mattered: nothing mattered. Neither her feelings or… just her _opinion_ about it. She was just a toy, remember? Just a mindless doll, a plaything to own and style.

Maybe she should buy herself a collar, just to mock him. It would be _funny as hell_.

Maybe that _Fendy_ was even right about the whole rose-soul-thing. Did she really lose her soul with accepting the famous glowing rose? Was it really only that motherfucking flower that kept her breathing right now? Would she die without it's power?

Aglaia couldn't ask the owner because he was already gone when the woman woke up. The Sexual Offenderman was a very busy man after all. Nothing she could do about it. Only hoping, crawling and fearing for the next move. That was the life strategy Aglaia lived after more than eighty years. It worked.

And all that _Fendy_ always left behind was that fucking rose over there, right on the bed where he laid down when they were done with very... _extraordinary_ things. Or did Aglaia only dream this? Reality isn't too specific about things when you get fucked by a slender over and over again and you even _liked_ it.

What Aglaia really angered was that it was always the same rose, like it was indestructible. Every time again this _specific_ flower would lay somewhere near Aglaia and laugh down on her in its mysterious, but yet creepy silence. The Russian tried to burn it last week, just like Offender mentioned it. He didn't show it often but it angered him to no end when someone tried to destroy his _possession_. Aglaia would be sore for many, _many_ days. Maybe even weeks, if that freak suddenly popped up again and repeated the punishment for his and her entertainment.

Still, she would try again. And again. And… _again_. Just to fail, get punished and fucked senseless again.

It made her rotten soul tremble with pulsing rage. Why didn't it just _end_? Was that really too much to ask for? Killing herself wasn't an option after all. The Sexual Offenderman would _always_ know somehow, stop her and make the world even more hellish than it was before. One time, she was captured in a dungeon to _think about what she'd done wrong_. She never made it out of it fully recovered though it was more than three decades ago.

How the hell could the Sexual Offenderman be called charming over and over again? This was so fucking _sick_ and Aglaia didn't even mention all the rumors that were spreading quickly over very…err… _deviant_ acts done in the deep, deep hell of torment at all!

Aglaia would never admit it, but the Russian _feared_ this man more than anything else in this fucked up world. Jeff The Killer or The Laughing Jack were nothing against him, if you asked her.

Now that the rose didn't glow anymore like it did last night, Aglaia wondered how long her life would last like this. Someday, he would – no – _had_ to get bored with her. Then, the rose will finally wilt. Shrink away, just like her soul will after all of this abuse and pain. Aglaia both craved and feared for this day to _finally_ come and take her away.

Picking up the beautiful gift from the devil himself didn't help at all. Aglaia just couldn't bring herself to rip it apart again, shred it into its corrupted little pieces, fearing for more pain and pleasure. Was this really her final fate? Set in stone just like in all those fairytales being told to children? Destined to die like this _and_ _only this_ specific way? At the mercy of god, being punished for her sins?

Tears of past memories flowed down her cheeks.

One for her life.

One for her soul.

One for her innocence.

And still so _many more_ to come.

Originally, Aglaia was an Orthodox Christian. To burn in the deepest parts of _hell_ is the only way to get purified. The only light in Aglaia's life was to die and get even _more_ pain, hoping someone will show mercy on her. The hell was one of the few places where Offender couldn't follow her. God couldn't be so cruel to his followers…

… _or was he?_

Aglaia was so going to hell for this crazy shit and she deserved _every bit_ of it.

Finally Aglaia broke down into a sobbing mess and threw the rose into the mirror she had been spotting the new tattoo in. It didn't surprise her when the mirror shattered in an instant after the stalk collided with the glass. After all, it was Aglaia's soul that laid there, unprotected between hundreds and thousands pieces of sharp glass.

Dangerously glimmering.

Vulnerable like a baby.

Chained to Mortality forever.

Destined to burn in the deepest parts of hell: The only way to destroy the rose forever.

It didn't matter that Aglaia couldn't see herself in the smashed mirror anymore. The motif of the tattoo was still there, lingering dangerously in the room. Threating and tempting at the same time, just like when she accepted it from the Sexual Offenderman in the dark alley all those years ago.

With trembling fingers Aglaia reached for the tattoo. At first she flinched at the pain caused by the soreness by hours of licking and biting, but the woman quickly put her whole hand on it, just to feel it, embrace it and make it familiar to her.

It was glimmering in different shades of blood.

Maybe Offender was right. Maybe her orchid wasn't completely gone.

Everyone was going to know who she belonged to. And Aglaia couldn't do a single thing about it.

This day, Aglaia mourned. Over everything and nothing. She was tainted for the rest of her life. There was – _is_ no escape. Neither from _Fendy_ nor the fate of dying at the monster's hands.

He was never going to change. She just _knew_ it. And suddenly there was that faint sense of pride in seeing the flower. It was _her_ rose, after all. A present that would never disappear.

Maybe it was her orchid…just in another _eccentric_ way. Another point of view.

The Sexual Offenderman really knew her _too good_ for her own health. Now, Aglaia seemed to really _love_ that tattoo in a strange, but kind of comfortable way. It was _her_ soul, after all: The only thing Offender had left behind of the past in a form of a bleeding orchid. Once plain white and now slowly bleeding out, tainting everything that collides with it.

Maybe she would get herself another one like this. After all, red was Aglaia's favorite color now. Screw the boring white when she could get red in its very different shapes and forms!

Reaching for her mobile phone, Aglaia tipped a message to the person she wanted to strangle to death just some hours ago:

 _What was the tattoo-artist's number again?_

* * *

 _ **Aglaia Fomin © Himulia007 ( /Tumblr); 2014-2016**_

 _ **The Sexual Offenderman © Arcanineryu ( /Deviant Art); 2012-2016**_

 _ **Copyright reserved to their rightful owners. I'm not trying to steal anything from anyone and will remove it immediately if the owner has something against my work in case of copyright.**_

 _ **I gain no profit with this, it's just for my and the reader's amusement.**_

 _ **Anything in here is only fictional and hasn't happened in real life.**_

 _ **Of course I don't support any rape, slavery, abuse etc. in real life.**_

 _ **PNs or Reviews would be much appreciated! I do not bite or scratch, just don't be TOO mean, okay? ^^**_


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